Mihas is more commonly known as Michael.
A variation of the Romanian Mihas.
Most people wont know his real name.

True nobility lies
in being superior to
your former self.

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My Minion Raiding Party can beat up your Minion Raiding Party

Mihas Lovren's Biography

November 2, 1563
It’s six minutes to midnight. From somewhere inside a cold,
desolate cabin, a baby cries. There are no neighbours. Despite
the winter wind whipping tirelessly at the crevices in the siding,
the night feels like its stopped in its tracks. Something lingers
outside. It’s patient, and it’s hungry. A mother weeps for her
newborn son, cradling him in her arms as time creeps forward still.

Midnight strikes, and so does a fist at the door.

December 31, 1585Twenty-Two years pass. A Romanian father
and his Croatian wife have long lived out the rest of their years. In
the centre of London, a strong heart flutters. It’s been raining for
days. It’s always raining. Each new drizzle brings the countdown closer
to an end. Time is a carefully constructed illusion. A boys life
bartered away for a promise. The past is simply borrowed time.

The honesty.. it was refreshing. Not about her glutes but her bank account, his only interest. With a quiet laugh, the Czech woman gave the departing man a wave. "I try!" Her body gently shakes with laughter. "You should keep trying too!"

She was minding her own business really, standing outside the old Ursaline Convent, contemplating if what the tour guide had said was true when someone decided to make grabby hands for the few large bills she carried. Maybe her pants were too tight, maybe the person found the twin firearms and decided against the theft. Whatever the case, Livia glanced over her shoulder, a dangerous grin turning the scarred flesh of her cheek inwards. "What.. No drinks or dinner first?"

Multi-colored auras of others passed perpendicular to the two, just ahead. Some human, some the heat register from vehicles. Fiona's fingers leave the safety of the concrete wall and fall to her side. Here lies in the reason the Gael avoids large cities of small landmass. Her senses are on overload. There's apprehension. Posture stiffening, Fiona steps from the building and stops, there's no reason to look the bumbling fool to a fellow coven mate. "Ah def'nitely apprecia'e th'antics." She turns suddenly towards the man. "M'name's Fiona, ye can call m'Fi though." A hand raises, outstretched towards her dungeon angel. "Ah've got some shoppin' t'du, thenks again f'r th'elp."

Grinned, couldn't help herself. He was irresistibly charming whether he meant to be or not. Blood soaked and handsome. Jewel nodded her head finding his reasoning agreeable. "You're not wrong, sir.. Not at all." She'd wink.

"Aye? T'e'ryone 'r just us?" Calloused fingertips drag along the wall, her steps careful. Hopefully the two wouldn't encounter any stairs, or kryptonite as she referred to them. "Well ah do apprecia'e tha'ye find yo'rself in trouble from time t'time th'n." A cheeky grin. "Helps m'out'f th'dunge'n that much fast'r."

That's Jamison. I adore her. Reminds me of my worst self. You've really taken your life in your own hands. Your safety cannot be promised in closed quarters with her. I suspect that she might have set a cop of fire. Don't worry about the wig - we can cut off Jamison's hair and weave it together.

Okay.. whew! For a second there I thought you might be one of those easy sleazy types.
-shrugs-
No worries. No matter how messed up I get, I don't sexually assault. Just wanted to see your stance.
-eyes-
Though, the teddy bear begs some questioning..

Flattered? Of course. I only ever pursue what interests me. You must tell me more about this nun. What did you do to deserve such negative attention? Did she cry? Scream? Faint? Did she live? Did she enjoy it?

"Thanks, I guess?" His comment on her name, not that it was common but it wasn't uncommon. Unlike Michael. Unsure with his hesitation if he were lying or not but it mattered not to her. She wouldn't judge. Everyone had their reasons for their lies and who was she to even accuse him of such. Michael. She'd repeat softly.

He'd make her laugh a bit at the bedtime statement. "No. No bedtime in awhile. Soon? You sure of that? Trusting? Hm.." Looking him over a bit. Some judgement slipped through. "I'm not too sure of that.. I can say from experience that some of the most trusting looking individuals could possibly be just the worst when it comes to just that." Cants her head. "But.. we will see." Spoken in a teasing manner. He seemed genuine. Pressed a kiss to the tips of her fingers before blowing lightly against them with a wink. Parted from him with the hope this wouldn't be the last she saw of Michael.

You wound me. Each and every member is hand-picked by yours truly, and my reasons are many. But you are right on one thing - you are quite pretty. It’s in your eyes, honestly. They’re incredibly haunting.

My favorite lighter has gone missing? Will I find it on the black market?

Her eyebrows would raise in mock surprise at his answer, only followed by a slight shake of her head and a delighted smile. Honestly, this is all simply perfect. Different. Fresh. Very unlike the safety of the home she built. "Elvis? Please. Johnny Cash was clearly superior. But fine," she would ultimately acquiesce. "Elvis it is. But only because you said precious."

A wink would be bestowed upon him before she waves and backs into the room once more, mumbling something about how expensive it is to send mail within the same dwelling, albeit playfully.

"You know," Mackenzie leans out the doorway of a room, head turning to catch sight of Mihas. A wicked grin crosses her features, prepared to lay it on thick. "I'm beginning to think you just don't like me. Still no name to speak of, you don't call, you don't write. Honestly, I've only one feeling left and it's hurting."

"Well, that could be arranged." Seriously. It could. But she'd never do that. This one is far too enticing. No, she has other hopeful plans. "Have you, as in add you to my collection. I'd love to see how you grow."

Mackenzie smirks, telling of her stakes. "Be advised, though. I don't let my people leave unless they are taking opening a coven of their own." It's simply what she does. The woman loves to help create future Leadership, yet is more than happy to retain talent, as well.

Would call him anything but shy. He didn't hold back and admired that about the man. Had found most men within the Realm had constantly tossed up some facade of being better than being themselves. Letting it all hang out there. To either be rejected or adored for themselves to her was a treat. It cut the bullsh-t right away.

Jewel was excited that he hasn't been playing when he spoke of them furthering their interaction. His movements were quick but steady, she'd reach for his cell and would begin to enter her digits within the device, leading to a small laugh. "It's Jewel. My name is Jewel." Looking up to him as she lifted his phone back to him after entering all he requested. "You wouldn't make me wait too long, would you?" She had stopped him as he was 'working' and he possibly had to get back to it.

"I have a nose for talent," she would quietly joke. Mackenzie does not boast. It simply isn't in her nature. Still, she would gift him a small smile, and watches intently as he products the tin. Her brows would raise, and that small smile would grow before she produces a delighted laugh.

"So, you were going to steal something of mine and sell it to some witch? You are fascinating." There isn't a second thought as she takes a step forward, offering a hand. "I'm Mackenzie, and if you're just crazy enough, I'd love to have you."

"Potential is interesting," she answers easily. Mackenzie is about to define herself, and everything she stands for. "Desire, ambition, quirks. You steal things, and it isn't about the thing. It's not material, which tells me there is something far greater that you aspire to possess. And naturally, my imagination does get the better of me." A soft shrug, and she smiles, "Your turn."

Lips curled into a grin as she allowed his lean, once again he was in her personal space yet this time she had found great humor in it and in him. "I bet."

Seemed drinks it was but he would surprise her with the admission of his germaphobia. For someone with such wandering hands, she was shocked. He didn't let it show. "I make no promises but I'll do my best at keeping my distance from your drink and possibly you but again, no promises." He was already much fun in her opinion and didn't wish the opportunity to slip on by. "So, when should we take this drink? I feel you owe me one right away after the feel up. I always thought drinks came first but.. you know.."

Snickered as he proved to be even more arrogant than she thought him at all possible. "Well, doll.. You are correct. I could be underestimating your abilities. Yet, you could be charged with the same crime." Twisting in her stance as she readied herself for any possible attempts of proof.

Relaxed slightly when in jest he challenged her to be an adult with her advancements. "You may have called my bluff, sir. Maybe a drink first. An attack between friends. We each could take a hand. Maybe a touch or more in between." With a wink, she'd laugh a little at herself.

An amused huff escapes her at his laughter filled response, and Mackenzie squints for just a second as she finds her response. "Fine. Fine. No more questions." A drag is taken before she continues. "Kidnapping... hardly. I like to collect people of interest, and help them flourish in whatever way they see fit. And you are interesting."

Iria let a bark of laughter slip between her lips as she leaned back against the cell wall watching the man fiddle with the lock to try and break free. She supposed that she understood his logic but her life as a creature of the night started in chains. Plus, she didn’t have any particular place to be at the moment so her rush to escape wasn’t as dire.

“Maybe there’s a little dog running around with keys. Or we can just kill the guard next time they do a check.”

Mackenzie would waste no time in lighting up, offering to the stranger only briefly before dropping the items carelessly into her bag. “You collect things,” she offers a cheeky grin, “and I collect people.”

“What does it have to do with, specifically? What is it you collect? The actual it.”

A laugh would escape her at the quick wit, icy eyes lighting up with amusement. "You're a right piece of work," Mackenzie reach into her bag, pulling out one of her several bits of junk. This, of course, would be a pack of cigarettes and lighter. "Have you ever considered that perhaps it might be something far greater than just the material?"

“Fair enough,” she mutters. Further explanation only further ignites her curiosity, and Mackenzie crosses her arms as she studies him. “I’d believe it. But what sort of things. Do you just take what you can find? Treasure it always? What if it’s junk?”

Slightly taken aback -- only slightly. "Whoa, whoa, whoa.. Don't take offense so quickly, cherry. I was just saying. I never said I didn't enjoy the frisking. Plus, my legs can be ticklish and it all might end in some bloody jerk reaction."

Drew closer in. "I'll make sure to have a treat for you next time. What do you enjoy since you don't seem to enjoy hands? It's not easy to hide much else in this binding clothing."

"Huh," her smirk widens into a grin. Mackenzie does appreciate those who speak up, always having been a fan of speaking ones mind. "I'm sure there are a lot of things you could be called, and precious is hardly the most insulting."

Her attention had, Kenz decides to pursue this just a little further. "What was it you were hoping to find?"

Arms crossed defensively. "I'd pressume you'd know. It felt as if you were traveling." Cants her head as she squinted slightly. "You don't look familiar. Tourist or you looking to become a New Yorker?" Was far from ashamed of her forward nature. Didn't have time to be coy.

The fumbling hand reaching for her bag demands her attention, and within seconds, her eyes follow the arm it is attached to and further, until she finally meets the man’s eyes. A small smirk would greet him, and Mackenzie inclines her head slightly. “Hello, precious.”

Raised a thin, shapely brow as she looked to the man. "My generation? Well, they are quite tasty once you get past a few tiny bones. Small snacks is how I keep my girlish figure in tact." Gave him a once over. "Anyhow.. Not sure what you thought you'd find. Do I look like I have pockets in this dress?"

Clears her throat ever so lady-like as she felt a stranger's hand. "Here in New York we keep whatever we find.. if you want to keep your hand, you might want to remove it from me." Crimson lips curled into a devilish grin before she snaps her teeth in his direction.